Chapter 24 #2
“You have no idea how sick and fucked up the Zahkarov and King games go, do you? With Bruce dead, Ivan is the secondary executor of the trust, but there are safety clauses to protect the Kings and the Zahkarovs. One. The shares could never be sold or given to charity. And two, and I think this was all Ivan pushing this, and don’t ask me what he has over Duncan—there will be a marriage between a King and a Zahkarov—”
My hearing went in and out, and I grew lightheaded. Oh my God.
“I was surprised that Kirill married you—are you okay?”
I’d gotten up, and the apple pie I'd just consumed threatened to reappear. All the blood escaped my head, and I sat down again.
“I’m not sure,” I whispered.
“Are you crying?”
Indeed, my cheeks were wet. “I think my husband is planning to kill me so he can marry you.” And that was why Anya was hiding the trust from the Kings. But that would mean Ivan had a copy of it too. That wily old bastard played me!
Chloe closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were like ice chips. “I’ll never marry into the bratva.” She gripped my shoulders to give me a light shake. “Listen, if you help me get a new identity, I’ll leave. I don’t care to be a King.”
“I’ll help you,” I said feebly. “Do you want company?”
Chloe laughed. I joined her, but mine was more the hollow kind. The kind where all you could do was laugh because the alternative was to cry. Being married to Kirill was like a roller coaster, and I was ready to get off.
Something chimed.
Chloe grabbed her phone. “That’s my outdoor alarm. Neighbors usually take a last walk with their dog, and a coyote has been coming—”
Her words cut off as her eyes flew to the front door just as it splintered and was thrown open.
My husband, tall, foreboding, and dressed in black, darkened the threshold.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” Kirill said in a chillingly calm manner, like he hadn’t just dramatically stormed in. “But I’m here for my wife.”
“Which one?” I challenged.
“What are you talking about?” Genuine bafflement etched his features, but all my burning anger of the past two hours plus finding out the reason my husband was going to kill me surged in a wave of bravado and tears. I rushed to my purse and pulled out my .38 and pointed it at him.
Kirill’s eyes darted between me and Chloe. For all her spunk earlier, Chloe stood frozen. Kirill had that effect on people, but I had built up enough resistance and powered through it.
“Now, now, can we talk about this?” He took a decisive step forward.
“Do not come closer, Kirill!” I shouted.
“I know what you accidentally overheard,” he said. “It’s not what you think.”
“Stuffing me in a barrel and throwing me into the ocean…did I not hear that right?” I screamed.
Chloe gasped. “Oh my God.”
Tears continued falling. “I hate you.”
Was it my imagination that my husband’s face softened? But his gaze narrowed as Chloe, who had finally become unstuck, was edging toward the corner of the kitchen.
“I suggest you not take another step.” I recognized the ice in Kirill’s warning. He had marked Chloe as a threat.
“I got this,” I told her.
“I don’t think you’ll shoot him,” she replied.
“Chloe. Don’t.”
Chloe made a sudden movement. My gaze swung back to Kirill. He’d already reached for his gun to shoot Chloe.
With an anguished cry, I fired.
Kirill staggered back, and his bullet went wide, shattering the window.
My arm dropped to my side as the enormity of what I’d just done hit me. I started bawling. “Why did you follow me?” I cried.
I shot my husband. He was going to shoot Chloe. The woman he was supposed to marry. He could have just shot me and been free to marry her.
Churning confusion and crippling pain stabbed me in the heart. My gun trembled in my hand, but I stepped in front of Chloe, who was brandishing a shotgun.
“Get out of the way, Lucy,” she cried.
As for Kirill, he must have just felt the area where I hit him. His hand clasped the spot on top of his shoulder, his hand coming away drenched in blood.
He glared at me, eyes glistening with fury. “Wife,” he snarled.
He stalked toward me with his gun lowered. “Happy now?” he gritted.
“I don’t understand.” Why not shoot me?
“You should stop eavesdropping on conversations!”
“You knew—”
“It’s not hard to connect the dots,” he growled.
“Where did I shoot you?” Because he was garbed in all black, it was hard to see.
But his eyes were narrowed on Chloe. “Tell your new friend to lower her gun.”
“Don’t you know who she is?”
He paused for a second, then his face framed a conclusion. “The missing King heir. Duncan King’s illegitimate daughter.”
“Your promised bride,” I snapped.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I retreated against Chloe. “So you didn’t know who she was when you attempted to shoot her?”
“Just kill him,” Chloe shouted.
“Chloe, lower your gun. If anyone is going to kill this bastard, it’s me.”
Kirill’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw appeared to have sharpened like the edge of a blade.
I recognized his impatience. The type of impatience where he felt explaining was pointless.
“It doesn’t matter who she is. And why would I marry her when I already have a wife? Even one who attempted to murder me.”
“You’re the one who took out a contract on my head.”
Another outraged gasp from Chloe.
Kirill flinched at my words. He was breathing hard. His chest rising and falling with effort. Maybe I should check on his gunshot wound. Blood was pooling where he stood. Dammit, did I hit an artery?
“You weren’t my wife then,” he seethed. “If it makes you happy if I’m dead, then shoot me. Here.” He pointed at his head. “Here.” He poked his chest. “Get it over with.”
“You’re not going to fight?”
“Fight?” he chuckled darkly. “I’m… I’m about to—”
His jaw slackened and his eyes drooped before he sank to the floor.
“Kirill!”